


No. 63: Do Laundry Together

by CallipygianGoldfish



Series: 101 Ways to Say I Love You [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 101 Ways to Say I Love You, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Laundry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallipygianGoldfish/pseuds/CallipygianGoldfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: Phil just isn't having a good day. Then Clint leaves his socks in a white wash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No. 63: Do Laundry Together

**Author's Note:**

> I was given a leaflet at college, titled "101 ways of saying I Love You other than having sex" which is amazingly cheesy but gives very good prompts! Points vary from relatively normal (no. 11- hug each other) to more erotic (no. 22- gently nibble their ear?!?). So, naturally, I immediately thought of Clint/Coulson!

Phil could remember precisely when his last scraps of patience disappeared in a puff of smoke. It had been a long day, ok, and it just wasn’t getting any better. 

First of all there was the range incident, on an orientation day as well. Getting the attention of 34 baby agents was hard enough when they weren’t covered in purple paint. 

Just before lunch, every computer managed to be infected by a virus which just made them show ducks on an escalator. On a loop. For 4 hours. 

Then there was nothing left for lunch apart from spinach or cream cheese. If there was one thing Coulson detested more than cream cheese, it was spinach. He thought it had probably done him a personal wrong in a former life, and left with an empty stomach.

Finally, when any sane agent had left, R&D decided it would be a good time to try out their airborne, heat tracking ‘bots. Some time was then spent trying to coax them out of heating pipes with bacon. Apparently they had a thing for hot pig.

Phil had just wanted a few hours sleep at home before inevitably being called back. So when the first thing he noticed was a string stretching from door to window of the apartment he and Clint shared, he tried really hard to ignore it.

“Clint?” He ventured forth, trailing the string around to the kitchen, then finding the end of one string jiggling through the bathroom door. There was a muffled crash before a soft kind of splat.

“Mmmf, ’old on!” Clint shouted out to Phil, who shrugged it off. This didn’t even factor on the “weird scale” he’d been compiling today. 

“Ok, well, I’m going to bed now, I’ll see you in the morning?” He opened the bedroom door just as-

“NO!”

There was the same string here too. Apart from the fact that these bits were holding shirts up to dry. Shirts that were Phil’s, had been white, and were now a funny shade of violet. Phil stared for a while as Clint appeared panting behind him, hands full of what looked like yet more shirts, but this time soggy and slightly more purple.

“Yeah, I know this looks bad, but just le-” 

“Clint.” Phil interrupted, trying hard to keep breathing normally. In, out, in, out, there we go... “Did you, or did you not, dye my entire shirt collection purple?”

“Well, maybe, but I swear it was an accident! I never thought you owned so many, to be honest.” Clint said, looking at them bemusedly before squirming under Phil’s glare. “I was just trying to do something good, an’ I thought you’d be staying late, so I’d have some time to get it out, then I suppose I kinda underestimated the power of my socks?”

“Yeah.” Phil snapped. “You really did. Shit...” He breathed out slowly with the last word and ran a hand through his hair. It was days like these that he was surprised he had any left. “You know what? I’m seriously too tired for any of this, so I’m going to bed, and when I wake up there will be no fluorescent shirts in sight. You owe me.” Clint nodded rapidly. 

“I know I do, anything you want.”

“You owe me a lot. New shirts, along with quite a lot of guilt sex too, I hope. I’d get you to do the washing for the next year but you’ll probably dye it blue to go with the purple.” He gestured towards the door. “Shoo. Agent Coulson’s sleeping now.” 

“Sir, yes sir,” Clint tried to salute, and instead managed to get a face full of soggy laundry. He ducked under the string and stepped out. Poking his head back around, he glanced at Phil who collapsed on the bed, fully clothed. “I’m really sorry Phil” he said softly.

“Yeah, I know. S’ok. Night ‘lint...” Phil mumbled. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d sort it all out; buy new shirts, console some paint-covered agent, try to ignore the ducks, and retrieve the last of the ‘bots. And probably get the most out of that guilt sex. But right now, this bed was the only thing that mattered, even if he did still have his shoes on.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments feed the author's happiness :3  
> Come visit me on tumblr? My username is exactly the same, callipygiangoldfish.tumblr.com


End file.
